


Out of the Rain

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-21
Updated: 2011-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-21 15:04:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam discovers something unexpected about her close friend and her ertswhile safe bet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Rain

The front door of the beachside house was locked and, although she knocked twice, there was no answer.

Hefting her overnight bag higher onto her shoulder, she stepped back and considered her options. Dusk was beginning to settle, falling like a soft orange and gold sheet over the Californian coast. Towering cotton candy clouds out over the Pacific threatened rain later. A storm would be welcome, she guessed. Perhaps it  would clear the stifling air.

She sighed. Maybe no one was home. She was early, after all. But then, she was always early. Military timekeeping was ingrained and it spilled into every other area of her life. She hated being late. It made her antsy. So, she was early. Two hours earlier than her ETA, to be precise.

She studied the house more closely.  It struck her immediately as being designed with the ocean view in mind. It was pretty unprepossessing from the front. The stunning vistas meant the best rooms were out back, overlooking the water. Everything that mattered was at the rear of the property. It was single story, all wood and glass, with a deck running most of the way around, from what she could see. It reminded her of the Colonel’s place in the Springs. It wasn’t a showy house. Beachside it may have been, but Malibu it was not. It stood in a quiet position, a short walk from the small town the cab had passed through on the way here.  

It was the perfect place to recover from the staff blast that had nearly taken him out and another that had killed Janet and left them all grieving. She shivered, pulled the sweater that was draped over her shoulders closer and tried not to think it about again. But it was hopeless. It was all she had been thinking about for the past two weeks.

Sam had lost her closest friend. Cassie had lost her mom. The SGC had lost a fine officer and a compassionate physician.

And Daniel  ... Daniel had lost another little bit of his soul.

No wonder O’Neill had wanted to get him away. Daniel was hurting and haunted. Since the memorial service and funeral, he’d bricked himself up behind walls so high she hadn’t been able to reach him.

But O’Neill had kept chipping at the mortar, creating gaps in strategic points of the formidable edifice Daniel had created. They were all waiting for it to crumble.

“Come out to the coast. An old forces buddy has a house in California. It’s mine if I want it.  We’ll all go. Spend some time together. God knows we’re owed leave. I can swing the time. We’ll fish, eat, drink, walk. ” _Listen, heal, reconnect ..._ She’d watched Daniel’s reaction as O’Neill made his case over lunch for three in the subdued commissary last week. Teal’c was taking some personal time, talking Jaffa politics and the future with Bra’tac. He’d loved Janet, too.

Daniel winced as he considered O’Neill’s proposition. As though the words hurt and he didn’t know how to respond. As though maybe he wanted to say yes but couldn’t because everything was screwed  and nothing could make it right.

O’Neill  watched Daniel like a hawk while pretending to play with the potato and coleslaw on his plate.

 “Carter? You game?”  O’Neill forked some food into his mouth and chewed in desultory fashion. His eyes never met hers and she knew instinctively the answer he wanted from her.

It hurt. But then, everything hurt just now. “Actually, Sir, I could maybe get away for a couple of days.”

A muscle in his jaw clenched slightly. She could still surprise him, then. Keep him off-balance. She hugged that thought to herself. “It will be good for all of us to get away,” she said, using her most persuasive tone of voice. “ Come on, Daniel.  You need a break, too.”

That muscle in O’Neill’s jaw relaxed a fraction.

Daniel sighed tiredly. “Thanks. But I can’t. Too much work,” he said, pushing congealed pasta around his own plate with no interest in eating it.

“All work and no play, Daniel,” O’Neill said, and there was an edge to his tone that sparked something in Sam, who flicked her gaze between the two men. They were sitting side by side, like maiden aunts on a train, but a world apart.

Daniel tensed but it was imperceptible, the only give-away sign the fingers that tightened on the fork.

“I’m sorry you find me so dull, Jack,” Daniel shot back, eyes fixed on his plate.

Sam shifted in her seat. She had no idea what was going on here, not sure she wanted to know, but there were unspoken words laced with pain hanging in the air and they were all hurting enough as it was.

“Please, Daniel.” She took a chance and reached across the table, placed her hand over the one holding Daniel’s fork. His skin was shockingly cold. “When was the last time we spent any time together? Cassie’s staying with a friend. She said she wanted a break from us. Me, actually. I think I’ve been over-compensating. I need to clear my head.” That should do it. Daniel always responded to the need in her.

He sighed again, more heavily this time. He was battle-savvy enough to know when the war was lost. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

The muscle in O’Neill’s jaw relaxed all the way.

 As it turned out, the timing was off. Sam got drawn unexpectedly into research work at Groom Lake. But it was, at least, a welcome distraction from Janet. Sometimes, Sam went a whole three minutes without thinking about the tape of Janet’s death. Without hearing the searing sound of the blast that killed her and left Daniel screaming for help.

Pete wasn’t thrilled that she went away and that she was pretty much incommunicado, mainly through choice. She found it hard to talk to him about Janet and she wasn’t sure why. She wanted to open up, she did, but god, everything was just ... too raw and painful. And she couldn’t begin to explain to him what Janet had meant to her. She had the feeling she was being unfair to him. Pete was a cop. Cops had strong bonds, were tight with their fellow officers.

But ... this was Janet. The words just wouldn’t come. She was too accustomed to being emotionally self-sufficient. And she couldn’t spare the time or emotional energy to put that right. Daniel was in trouble. Daniel needed her, and while that was the case, her need to reach out to Pete was subsumed. She acknowledged an element of cowardice in that.

But Pete said he understood. And he’d be waiting. It was such a strange feeling, that certainty that someone would be there. It felt so good  to know, and it made her feel worse about the way she knew she was handling this.

 _Welcome to my life._

Thanks to the work-induced delay, O’Neill and Daniel flew to California four days before she did. She was to join them for the last three days of leave.

And here she was. Early, even though she was four days late.

She leaned down and pulled off her sandals. She was by the beach, she might as well feel the sand between her toes. She walked down the side of the house, through dunes, enjoying the sharp feel of the small clumps of dune grass as they whipped at her legs. The sand was loose and warm. It felt good.

As she reached the edge of the dunes and the corner of the house, she could see a low light on in what was probably the living room. Above the soft shushing of the waves breaking behind her on the beach, she could hear mellow jazz playing quietly through an open window. She smiled. Had to be the Daniel’s choice.

She edged around the corner of the deck towards a small flight of steps that led up to a big, sliding glass door into the living room.

And she stopped dead in her tracks.

It was the sound that registered first; rhythmic grunts overlaid with a soft string of “Uh, uh, uhs” in counterpoint. It was unmistakable. It was so obvious, and, at the same time so unlikely, that she couldn’t process it. It didn’t compute.

Harsh, sexual, primal ... undeniably male sounds.

A loud inner voice told her to turn around. Just turn right around and leave. It probably wasn’t them. It could have been anyone. She’d got the wrong house. Guests she didn’t know anything about were taking advantage of their hosts taking a walk on the beach. Porn movie.  They were watching for a joke. A dare.  _“Jeeze. Do they really do that? Man, my knees would never stand it.”_

An even louder voice told her to stop being such a fucking ass.

Looking back, she realized that she knew what she was hearing and she knew who she was seeing before she’d even taken the three tentative, inevitable steps that took her into view.

The breeze from the ocean was blowing a soft drape back from the window. It fluttered against the glass like a sail against the rigging. It didn’t hide them like it should have done.

Idiots. _Fucking idiots._ People walked on this beach. They could be seen.  Damn it, they should have been more careful . Any number of people were waiting in line to ruin them. They’d been trying for years.

And then she wasn’t thinking anymore. She was watching one of her closest friends riding the cock of her commanding officer. And it was stunning, and it was beautiful,  a complete rebuttal of every  pale fantasy and imagined longing she’d ever had for either of them.

She stepped back, eyes still fixed on the shifting silhouette. She couldn’t look away. She couldn’t obey the _walk away, walk away,_ mantra that sang in her head. She sat down on the edge of a dune before her legs gave way.

O’Neill’s cock was thrusting up into Daniel in a steady rhythm.  The colonel’s hands were tracing lazy trails on Daniel’s abs, then roaming down to clench on Daniel’s butt. Daniel’s head fell back and his mouth fell open. The “uh, uh” sounds were his. She could see Daniel quite clearly, could see the shape his body made as he moved on his lover ... his _lover._   As he made love. Because that’s what this was. Not some harsh, oh-god-you’re-alive fuck. She guessed they were past that and that they’d talked, or fucked, out whatever it was that had caused the tension she’d witnessed between them in recent days. This was intense, loving, shared pleasure. She could tell that much even without seeing O’Neill’s face clearly. It was hidden in shadow and she was grateful for that. She shouldn’t know what her CO looked like when he loved, even though she had once fantasized about knowing what _Jack_ looked like.

Daniel’s body jerked faster, and he moved his head a little from side to side, distracted, lost. Lost in the feeling. Then he slowed, bent over O’Neill’s body and said something. He was panting _. God, she thought, he’s going to come soon ..._

Sam realized that Daniel was wearing his glasses, and somehow, that made it worse. This was “work Daniel,” the Daniel she shared off-world tents with and discussed reports with and sat across from in briefings.

Daniel Jackson and Colonel Jack O’Neill, her teammates, were fucking.

God.

O’Neill raised his head and their lips met in a long, deep kiss. O’Neill took Daniel’s head in his hands and stroked the hair from Daniel’s forehead. It was a simple, loving gesture and it spoke of an easy familiarity. They smiled, small, private, affectionate smiles,  and then O’Neill said something and Daniel nodded and leaned back as O’Neill lay back down, his face hidden again, and resumed tight, sharp thrusts of his hips. It was graceful and terrible and still she could not look away.

Sam blinked and focused in on Daniel’s face. He  looked ... happy. Through the stunned, shocked reactions chasing each other through her brain, that simple, startlingly obvious fact rose above them all.

Daniel looked happy.

Was this new? Had Janet’s death thrown Daniel and the Colonel together in a maelstrom of pain and love that resolved into physical release? There had always been something between them. Something that underpinned a relationship that always challenged her ... the half-finished yet somehow  complete sentences; the mutually raised eyebrows that followed incomprehensible (to anyone else) arguments . Something. Perhaps what she was seeing now was inevitable.

Whatever it was, however long it had been going on, it was obvious that she was watching a manifestation of love, and that fact alone was enough to counter any incipient anger that might be brewing inside her.

Sam gripped the sleeves of the draped sweater on each shoulder, fisting the fabric tightly. She felt cold despite the warm, heavy, air.

Out at sea, there was a distant rumble of thunder and she laughed out loud. It was too funny. Crashing thunder and waves ...  elemental backdrop to the kissing and loving ... how very Hollywood.

A flash of lightning illuminated Daniel’s face as he uttered a loud, “Ohhh,” and then another, the cries following sharp slapping sounds. She winced as the Colonel slapped Daniel’s ass and grunted out, “Yeah, fuck, yeah.”

Sam closed her eyes. This was too much. She’d seen too much. Heard too much.

She was shocked to find that she was massively turned on, a surge of sexual arousal overriding the slew of questions that were still fighting for attention: How long? How did it start? Was O’Neill, her erstwhile safe bet, involved with Daniel when they were playing their stupid game of flirting and dancing around inchoate feelings?

This was all too much. She was still reeling from Janet’s loss, all cried out. She couldn’t think straight.  The first fat, hot drops of rain of the long-threatened storm began to fall. The strengthening wind blew the rain onto the big window, and, from this distance, the rain became tears rolling down Daniel’s face as his body seized and spasmed and he came.

Sam rose to her feet, heart pounding and mind racing.

She fought for clarity of thought.  She had just seen two of the men she loved and respected most sharing an act of love that would change the way she thought of their relationship  - and their relationship with her - forever.

She needed space and time to think this through. Right now, she couldn’t pretend that she hadn’t seen what she’d just seen. She wasn’t that good an actress, but she wanted to be that good a friend, that much she knew, despite the shock.

She wanted to be glad for Daniel.

She needed Daniel to be happy.

She needed time to adjust.

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and bent down to put her sandals back on and walked away from the house, angling through the dunes.

The rain was cleansing and it grounded her. The fact that her cotton dress clung uncomfortably didn’t seem to matter.

After walking for ten minutes, she came to the edge of the town and sought refuge in a coffee shop. It was warm and welcoming and the overstuffed armchairs and sofas looked comfortable and inviting. It was almost empty, just a young couple holding hands and giggling in the corner, and what looked like a fellow refugee from the storm sitting in a seat by the door reading a newspaper.

“Wow. Glad to get of the rain, huh?”  the young barista asked, pouring a mug of steaming dark roast before she’d even asked for it.

Out of the rain.

Yeah.

“Something like that.” She found a smile from somewhere and took the first warming sip, cradling the warmth of the mug between chilled, shaking fingers.

“I can get you a towel or something,” he said.

God. She must look a sight. “It’s okay, thanks. I’m going to a friend’s house when I’ve finished this. It’s not far.” She raised her coffee and took another drink, slightly surprised to hear herself say that she was going back there. Because she was. She needed to know that everything was fine; to see for herself that Daniel was fine.

She sat on a sofa by the window and peered out into the growing gloom. A spectacular arc of blue lightning flashed between the clouds over the ocean. Raindrops chased each other down the window, distorting her reflection. She sipped thoughtfully and gratefully at the coffee. It was delicious. Daniel would have loved it.

She tightened her hold on the coffee cup and tried to order her thoughts. So much had changed in the past year and a half.  She was forced to acknowledge that she didn’t accept change easily. Change unsettled her, threw in variables and uncertainties.  She could deal with them in the context of her work, just not so much in her private life. They’d lost Daniel and struggled to assimilate a new member into the team. O’Neill had never fully accepted Jonas.  He’d been hurting and insular and sometimes impossible to reach. My god ... had he lost his lover, not just a teammate?

And then they’d got Daniel back. He’d asked her, back on Vis Uban, when he was still struggling with who he was and had been, if there had ever been anything between them. She wondered if he’d asked the same question of the Colonel, and, if he’d asked, what the answer had been.

What she had seen this evening was throwing all her previous assumptions about the team dynamic into doubt and confusion. She would have to fight not to revise team history completely until she knew exactly what was going on with Daniel and the Colonel.

Would they tell her? Would they trust her to keep their secret? Was there a secret to keep? Perhaps what was happening now was the beginning and end of it; solace shared, nothing more nor less.

And if they didn’t come to her with this, would she be able to live with that? Too many questions were crowding in. She longed to be able to talk things through with Janet; they’d laugh and bitch and deal. That’s what they did.

 _Oh, Janet ..._

Finishing the last mouthful of coffee, she had a sudden, overwhelming need to talk to Pete.  That need felt strange but ... good.

Pete was waiting. And she needed him.

She pulled the cell phone from her bag and called up her address book. The first number, top of the list, was Janet’s. She licked her lips, clutched the phone tightly and came to a decision. It was something she’d have to do sometime. She scrolled through the options until she found delete. She pressed the button and Janet’s name vanished.

Sam sat for a moment, wondering if she was about to fall apart. But she’d cried her tears for Janet. Instead, she felt a tangible calmness descend. In many ways, Janet Fraiser, with her honey-toned laugh, bright smile and wicked sense of humor, would always be with her.

Perhaps, finally, she was learning to face change. And the biggest change of all, she wanted to make in herself.

Looking down at the phone, she hit the second name on her list, and when the call was answered said quietly, “Pete. Hi, it’s me. How are you? How was your day?”

As she talked, as she heard the love and relief in the voice on the other end of the phone, Sam ran a hand through her hair and smoothed it back into place. Began to get herself together in readiness for meeting Daniel and the Colonel.

It felt good to be out of the rain.

 

ends


End file.
